


Loki cuts bangs

by WombatLadyBuset



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bad Haircuts, Bullying, Childhood Trauma, Gen, Kid Fic, Kid Loki and Kid Thor (Marvel), Odin (Marvel)'s Parenting, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 11:46:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20723687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WombatLadyBuset/pseuds/WombatLadyBuset
Summary: Suburban childhood AU.Loki started hyperventilating. Only staring, devestated, at his wet, lobster-red face in the mirror’s clear, unforgiving reflection. His ears stuck out like plates, and his lips quivered.





	Loki cuts bangs

Thor had been thrilled when he’d met his baby brother. Loki had been adopted from a fosterhome, and was just as soft, chubby and sweet as his pictures had shown him to be. The times that he had been allowed to meet the little bundle of joy had been brief, but he would spend the carrides thinking about all of the exciting games he and his new brother would play. He would finally have someone to play hide and seek with, someone he could teach how to fight, someone who would catch frogs with him and go on rain-booted walks; in search of dogpoos to poke with sticks. 

Loki, contrary to what Thor had hoped, became a presence that only served to make them miserable. 

The worst thing about Loki isn’t that he is mean. He isn’t. On the contrary. He’s weak, boring, and a crybaby, as far as Thor is concerned. But he never bites, or screams his head off, like some toddlers do. Not even when Thor experiments, out of curiousity, mostly. He’ll reach over when Loki is sitting in his (used to be Thor’s) highchair, having devoured a bowl of mushy peas. He looks up with wide eyes and gurgles, spittle ending up on Thor’s upperlip. Thor is simultanteously disgusted and intrigued. Anticipation builds up in his gut, as he moves closer, and cruelly pinches Loki's cheek. 

It’s almost like he’s gotten a reward, the moment his unwanted brother's colorless, snooty face explodes and twists into a mess of reddish pink sobbing, and highpitched wails. Ugly “bwaaas” that fill up the room and gives Thor a headache. Maybe if Loki makes enough of that horrible noise, Thor’s parents will decide that they also has grown tired of Loki, and will mail him back to wherever he’s come from. Loki can live with his own parents as far as thor is concerned. Thor doesn’t care if Lokis mother has “problems”, or that Loki’s father is in prison. Thor will gladly send off this annoying, screaming little package to that very place if it is what it takes to have his parents to himself again. 

They grew older, yet not much changed. Loki was still a strange, strange child; and Thor was still the whole culdesacks sweetheart

Thor could be a, should we say, excitable child. 

He had no official diagnosis yet, but Frigga suspected that he had a textbook case of adhd. He was bright, happy, active, and often acted first and thought later. 

Odin was not as open to this however, he was a firm believer that nothing could possibly be wrong with his golden boy. Even though he’d had no problems suggesting that Loki had some type of learning-disability; autism, antisocial personality disorder or maybe selective mutism. He’d even gone as far as to bring up low testosterone, as a cause for Loki’s less than extrovert personality.

In school, Loki was so painfully shy, that he wouldn’t answer questions the teacher had. He never spoke up. In gymclass, he was a fish out of water. He had a nervous stutter, and this made it painfully hard to join in on conversations with the other kids. And, when he’d finally managed to say what he wanted; they had already changed the subject, and he seemed slow, sluggish to the other children. It wasn’t fair, Loki thought. He was funny, when given the chance to be. He was smart. He was polite. 

All of his teachers would praise him for his silence. They’d say things like “oh if only all my students were as calm and wellbehaved as you, Loki”. 

They always told him to take up more space, to speak more. Be a little more agressive. If you let the other children walk all over you, Loki, they’ll think it’s okay. They’ll never stop taunting you, Loki. Do you even realise what they’re saying about you? Do you know what those words mean? 

He stayed inside during recess, and ate his lunch at his desk. He played by himself, or with Thor, if he weren’t busy playing with his friends. Thor’s friends didn’t really like Loki, and referred to him as “Thor’s lame little brother”. With his pallid little face and his pouty little mouth, that was almost always twisted into an unhappy frown; unless he was watching his stupid cartoons or eating cereal, spilling milk everywhere. He cried like a baby as well, always finding something new to be unhappy with.

It was hard for Loki, growing up like that. Always excluded somehow, never really taken seriously. When Loki cried, he was weak. When he was silent, he was antisocial. When he talked, he was inappropriate. Looking back at it as an adult, he liked to think that Odin had meant well. Frigga would console Loki at the time, reminding him that his father could be very stuck in his ways, and didn’t understand what it was like to be a child. It’s really too bad, that Frigga often made things worse in her efforts to help little Loki. She’d made an honest attempt to better accomodate Loki once, or as she’d put it, his needs. It had been an entirely innocent comment made to Odin, about… maybe putting Loki in a different kind of school. A school he’d thrive in. And unlikely as it may sound to some, she truly wanted the best for Loki. She figured that a little more personal contact with the teachers, smaller classes, and the opportunity to have personalised exercises in gymclass would really benefit her bookish boy. 

Thor overheard her, unfortunately. And quickly jumped at the chance to make fun of his misfit brother. It was all fun and games for him, being an innocent child. He thought of it as light, playful teasing. so he told his friends, that Loki might have to go to a special school. 

This was devestating. 

Soon enough both Sif, Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg had yet another reason to take Loki less seriously. 

Whenever thor played with the other children in their area, Loki would scamper along like a quiet, mousy barnacle. It made Thor’s many friends, all of them very kind and goodnatured children, sigh deeply in what can only be thought of as an unusually present form of mild discontent.

Why shouldn’t they poke fun at his looks? If he wanted them to stop, he’d say something, wouldn’t he? Maybe he didn’t understand them, even. Why should they stop, when Loki didn’t mind what they were saying? He just looked at them with glazed eyes and a somber frown, and then returned to his books. He’s not even listening. Hello? Anybody in there, Loki? Are you deaf too? 

React, damn you. Did he think he was better than them? That he had the right to ignore, and shut them out. 

They were not happy at all with Loki coming along. 

Neither was Thor, after a while. He explained time and time again that his stupid mother, Frigga, made him bring his stupid baby brother Loki along. Loki. Quiet, sickly, nervous Loki. He never wanted to play in any of their games, but insisted on joining anyway. He complained, whined about and refused all of the fun, adventurous games Thor, Volstagg, and Sif came up with. Yet, he never suggested any games of his own. Instead, he stood by like a forebrooding, eerie gargoyle, and wiped at his runny nose with an oversized shirtsleeve. 

They would wave their small hands in front of Lokis tightly shut eyes, poke him, slap the back of his head. Once, Sif got so aggitated that she put gum in his hair, that Frigga had to cut out later that night. Thor didn’t tell on Sif, and Loki certainly wouldn’t. He just shook his head in “I don’t know”. That did it for them. How could they respect someone who didn’t even respect himself?

“That’s not a forehead that’s like… a fivehead”

The comment had caught Loki Completely off guard. He’d been ten at the time, the age where appearance first comes to mind for many children. At first he was just confused. But then he understood. As soon as his stupid brother joined in with his happy shriek of “it’s huge”.

So, Loki took the extra sharp scissors from Friggas sowing kit, stored in an old cookie-tin. The ones that he wasn’t allowed to use, because Odin still suspected that there was something wrong with him. He went to the bathroom, turned on the lights, stood in front of the dirty mirror and breathed deeply. Slow and steady like a dying man. It couldn’t be so hard, could it? To cut bangs? they would cover his forehead at least. His big, huge, extra large fivehead. So, taking the scissors in one hand, and a tuft of hair in the other; he fastened the spare little pigtail with a hairband, and inched closer with his new shiny tool of makeovers and eternal happiness. And, taking a deep, deep breath, he nervously snipped off the ponytail. But the real shock didn’t come until he took the hairband out. 

What met him when he looked at his own reflection could be interpeted as a cruel practical joke. Greasy tendrils hung lifelessly, pointing in different directions and separating into thin, unhealthy-looking segments of dirty, disgusting black hair. 

Loki paled. What in the world was he going to do? No matter which way he tried to comb it down, the infuriating little fringe stayed. He tried to pin it back with a couple of his mother’s hairpins, but his nasty nasty hair was so slippery that the pins just slid right off! Panic started to build in his chest. What would he tell his mother? What would he tell Odin? Oh dear, when Thor found out…  
Loki knew that he’d be teased for weeks, months maybe. Even when his hair grew out, Thor wouldn’t let him forget what he’d done. Loki started hyperventilating. Only staring, devestated, at his wet, lobster-red face in the mirror’s clear, unforgiving reflection. His ears stuck out like plates, and his lips quivered. 

He snuck out of the bathroom after at least 20 minutes of worrying and gnawing on his lower lip.  
When Thor, who had his friends over, and saw him… all of Loki’s worries became reality. Thor never did let him live it down. In fact, they brought out their cellphones. The pictures turned out fantastic; with a small, sad child and his horrible bangs staring sadly into the camera. In one of the pictures, he held his hand over his forhead like he thought he could hide his mistake. He couldn’t do it though. His failure was visible in his whole face.

Sometimes Thor still brings it up today, even though they’re both adults. Loki is 27 and Thor is 30, yet they’re largely the same. Loki is quiet and withdrawn while Thor is excentric and well liked. Thor still likes to bring up that one horrible incident, and thinks of it as a fun, innocent childhood-memory. Loki knows better. He thinks of it as the last desperate act of an ugly, affection-starved child. And the first of many failures.


End file.
